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Chapter Text

A lone figure hunched in the dark, kneeling in a pool of blood, his back lit only by the dim glow filtering through the crack in the stone ceiling a hundred feet overhead. 

I was born here, in the darkness of the earth, and I will die here, having never seen the sun. 

He watched blood drip off the dagger in his chest. He had never once cared about the sun. Why was it now that he suddenly thought of it? 

“Never forget that we are the first people. This is our land. They may have stolen it from us, but we will rise from the earth and reclaim the light that is rightfully ours, for all Agarthans.”

That was what Thales had said. “Idealistic drivel,” is what Duris had called it. He didn’t need the sun, and he didn’t care about living in some land that his ancestors had claimed long ago. As far as he was concerned, in Shambala they had their freedom, and that was enough for him. He had given his leaders a token effort, but Duris had never understood the allure of clawing back the surface.

Until now. 

They were dead, all of them. His wife. His baby girl. His brother, his sisters, his nieces and nephews. Everyone he had called friend. Their bodies were still rotting in the rubble heap of Shambala, somewhere above him now. This… this was our land. Those monsters drove us underground… and yet… and yet… they were not satisfied with even that… 

He completed the sigil on the ground with the blood on his fingertips. 

The legends told of him… Zahras… the beast who aided us… who gave us knowledge and power freely, who denied his own kin to save the lives of Agarthans during the massacre…

Duris only hoped that he had completed the ritual correctly. Magic had never been his strong suit, and he didn’t even fully understand the magic he was using.  Only that it had the power to affect the flow of time… that was the only thing he needed… the last hope of a destroyed people… 

“Open… the dragon’s door… Zahras…” his raspy voice echoed through the darkness. “... return to us.”

He removed the blade from his heart and slumped to the floor. 

Existence itself burned. 

Somewhere, in the void outside of time, the eyes of a massive beast opened.

Chapter Text

The sound of water… bubbles…

A leviathan slowly lurched through the waters for an eternity and a day.

Then a change… As if the vessel had given way, water rushed rapidly out, leaving only…

Chapter Text

A girl with long, dark purple hair walked alone, barefoot on the empty beach. Here, the north banks of the river Phlegethon were wide and sandy. She felt the cool water on her toes as it flowed slowly past and out to the ocean. It was a far cry from the stagnant halls where The Illness slowly seemed to be spreading to her last remaining older brother. She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes that had been blown there by the breeze. She wondered if her acceptance to the officer’s academy would be approved by her father’s advisors. They seemed keen on keeping the family nearby.

This could only be a temporary respite. Soon, she would need to return home. Should the advisors discover that she had escaped their watchful eyes, the consequences would be dire. She did not wish that upon her family, her baby sister most of all. Still, she reveled in the fleeting freedom of the open air, the warm summer sun on her face, a light breeze blowing through her hair. 

A bird took flight to her right, attracting her attention. There, upstream, she saw something rise up from out of the river. As it floated closer, she realized it was a body. Without thinking, she waded into the water until she could no longer touch the ground. She swam as best as she could until she reached the figure and pulled it back to shore.

Once back on dry land, she turned the body over, face up. It was a man with strangely pointed ears and dark, nearly black hair. He was unconscious, but surprisingly, he was breathing. 

She attempted to heal him with magic — a spell she had only just learned, but he seemed uninjured. She decided she would have to bring him someplace safe until he awoke. Bandits were known to prowl at night and his clothing set him apart as some kind of noble or mage. Though it was difficult, she managed to smuggle him back into the castle, to her room, the only place the nosy castle officials left her in peace. There, she resolved to care for him until he awoke. 

How long it had taken, what had become of him, even the memory of him entirely, was forgotten, washed away into oblivion by the inferno of fire that pulled her down into the dungeon of torment and suffering and death into which she later descended.

Chapter Text

The sun danced off the white stone towers of Garreg Mach monastery. Within, the sounds of horses and carts rang through the path of the entrance. Men and women unloaded boxes and carts in the bustling marketplace, filled with the things of this years’ students at the officer’s academy.

Claude von Riegan stood at the door to the entrance hall, surveying the scene. He ran each person through his mental checklist, and considered what he already knew of them.

There was Edelgard of the Adrestian empire, at the far end of the hall, with her lady-in-waiting, a dark-haired girl whose name he didn’t know. They were standing with Lord Vestra’s son, evaluating the situation as much as he was. 

“Pardon me,” snapped a girl’s voice from behind him. He turned and saw a young girl with white hair and pink-purple eyes wearing the officer’s academy uniform, though she had to be far too young to be a student. She was carrying a large bag over her shoulder. 

“Are you lost?” he asked her.

She had started to stride by him but then stopped and turned sharply on her heels. “Excuse me?! I will have you know I am not some lost child, I am perfectly capable of finding my own way to my dormitory, thank you.” and with that she stormed off. Claude was left scratching his head.

“Please forgive my sister,” another girl said as she approached. She looked older by several years, though looked little like the girl she called sister. Her hair was purple and significantly darker. Her eyes however, behind large round glasses, were the same pink. “She may be young, but she doesn’t like being treated like a child.”

Claude bowed. “Claude von Riegan at your service,” he said. 

The girl chuckled and bowed dramatically. “Ophelia Cassandra Asteria Sophia von Ordelia, at yours.”

So she would be in the Golden Deer house too, he thought. That would make the other girl Lysithea… though they looked nothing alike. He made a note to speak more to the two of them later. Ordelia house was the one that Judith had told him least about. Apparently they had been something of a reclusive family for the last decade or so. 

“Looks like we’ll be in the same class then,” he said. 

“Indeed,” she smiled. “I look forward to it.” And with that, she continued on into the entrance hall. 

He turned back towards the door and looked down the outside marble staircase into the marketplace. Below was another student loudly declaring himself to be Lorenz Helman Gloucester to a group of young women. 

So that’s Lorenz. Judith had warned him about this one. Claude swept the cape over his shoulder, the sign that he was the head of the house this year, so that it was more visible, and stepped down the stairs. Lorenz saw him and turned. 

“Greetings, fellow student. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’m sure you’ve heard of me before, but it is only polite to make a formal introduction. My name is Lorenz Helman Gloucester, son of Count Gloucester, and heir to the leading house of the Alliance. And you are?”

Claude smirked. “Claude von Riegan.” 

The heir to the real leading house of the Alliance, Claude thought.

Lorenz’ smile faded and his demeanor cooled. “I see. Well, I hear you have little history within the Alliance. If you require, I am highly knowledgeable about the inner workings of Alliance politics and the families of the students you will meet here. I would be more than happy to fulfill my noble duty as a mentor and guide to those with less knowledge than I.”

Claude had to work very hard to keep his eye-roll to himself. Instead, he smiled calmly. 

“No need to worry over me, I'm just making my introductions to everyone.”

“Ah, as am I,” Lorenz said. “I shall accompany you.”

Claude thought that sounded more like a directive than an offer. As he left back for the entrance hall, Lorenz hurried to walk alongside him. 

Claude first approached a blue-haired girl sitting on a wooden chest containing her belongings.  If he had it correct, this would be the one Judith told him was called Marianne Edmund. “Good morning,” Claude smiled. “Claude von Riegan. You must be Marianne.”

“Oh, um… yes,” she muttered, looking quickly at her feet. She didn’t say anything more, leaving an awkward silence hanging in the air. 

Lorenz eagerly filled it. “Lorenz Hellman Gloucester. Marianne is Margrave Edmund’s adoptive daughter. Margraviate Edmunds is located at the northern end of the Alliance. While they have been a minor house for some time, they have lately accrued the clout to earn themselves a seat at the table with the Alliance’s Five Great Lords.”

Claude did his best to hold his tongue. He knew all of that. “Their open port policy certainly did wonders for their economy,” Claude said. That newfound trade was what had earned them their seat at the table. “What do you think?” he asked Marianne. 

She didn’t look up from her feet. “I don’t know…” she mumbled. “I… should go….” 

“I would be more than happy to assis—” Lorenz began, but she had already hurried away, head down. 

She struck Claude as the shy type. Not one for conversation. She clearly was uncomfortable talking to them, so he decided not to press her any further. Yet. Not until he was ready to make inroads to the Margrave.

Claude walked further into the entrance hall, pretending as if Lorenz wasn’t shadowing his every move. He passed two knights who were helping a red-headed girl with several hefty boxes of books. They looked too busy to engage in conversation now. 

“Ah, you must be—” Lorenz began, though the knights and the girl didn’t hear him as they kept walking. Claude moved along as well, and Lorenz had to canter to catch up. “That was Lady Annette Dominic of the Kingdom of Faerghus. Her uncle—”

Claude made eye contact with a girl wearing long, pink ponytails. She was in a group with three other students, one girl, and two boys. The boys could hardly be more different than each other. One looked scrawny and short, while the other was tall and impressively muscular. “Hello again Hilda. And who is this?” he said, turning to the others. 

“You must be the class leader,” the unfamiliar girl said with a bow, lower than the others, the kind commoners usually gave. “Leonie Pinelli here.”

“Claude von Riegan,” he said with a nod. He had seen her name on the roster list, but since she wasn’t a noble, Judith didn’t have much information on her. 

The scrawny boy went next, bowing low as well. “Ignatz Victor, if it pleases you. And this is Raphael, he said, gesturing to the burly boy. Raphael was holding a heavy crate in each arm in addition to the massive pack on his back, a messenger bag on one side, and a girly-looking pack hanging off his left arm. Claude thought he looked less like a student and more like a one-man camel caravan.

“You need anything carried to your dorm?” Raphael asked with a beaming grin. 

“You look like you’ve got plenty.” 

“Nah, just Hilda’s and Ignatz’,” Raphael beamed. Claude wasn’t sure how that wasn’t already plenty. “I figure the more I help carry, the more training I get in, even before the school year starts!” 

Lorenz cut in. “While Raphael and Ignatz are both commoners, they are from notable merchant families of the Alliance.” Claude tuned him out as he continued. He already knew all of that. He calmly ‘mmhmm’-ed through the rest of Lorenz’ exposition. 

“Well, I should let you get to your training,” he said to Raphael with a smile. “And you all to your unpacking. I'm sure we’ll see each other at the entrance ceremony.”

He watched them as they left, Leonie and Ignatz with their manageable loads, Raphael with an unmanageable one, and Hilda with…nothing in her hands.

“Ah, and these are the young ladies of the Ordelia family,” Lorenz said. Claude turned to see him gesturing at Lysithea and Ophelia. Lysithea turned to them. 

“I am not that young,” she said sharply. 

“Oh dear…” her sister sighed, and redirected with an introduction. “ I am Ophelia Cassandra Asteri--”

“You don’t need to give everyone all of your names every time,” Lysithea cut in. 

“Lyssie,”

“Don’t you call me that in front of other people. And you,” she said, pointing sharply at Claude and Lorenz, “I am Lysithea. Ly-Si-The-Ah.”

“Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, son of Count Gloucester, and heir to the leading house of the Alliance,” Lorenz said. 

Claude bit his tongue. Were all the Fódlan nobles this insufferable about their names and titles? 

“And you?” Ophelia turned to Claude. 

Claude did a double-take. “Uh... Claude…? von Riegan? We met about five minutes ago.”

She blinked, as if stunned. “Oh! Yes, of… of course,” she said, though Claude wasn’t convinced. 

“You have a mind like a sieve,” Lysithea said with a roll of her eyes. “Now come on, I will have to unpack for you so you don’t lose anything important on the way. Which room number is yours?”

“I… well I wrote it down though…oh dear, where did I put that note?”

“I swear, you would lose your head if it wasn’t attached to your neck. If you’ll excuse us, we need to go find an administrator,” and with that the girls excused themselves.

“You’d hardly know which is the younger and which is the elder,” Lorenz mused, nodding as if this was some sage insight. Claude did have to admit, though, that it was true. 

Claude continued around the entrance hall, making introductions with Lorenz closely on his heels. When it came time for the opening ceremony, he mostly tuned it out, instead searching the crowd for the other students he hadn’t had a chance to meet in the entrance hall. He made his way through most of the mental checklist he had mapped of the roster for the year and his first impressions. 

Of the Golden Deer: Lorenz of house Gloucester, obnoxious, though obnoxious had its own set of uses. Marianne of house Edmunds, shy, quiet, maybe hiding something. Hilda of house Goneril, charming girl, maybe too charming. Ophelia of house Ordelia, perhaps forgetful. Lysithea of house Ordelia, don’t mistake her for a child. Leonie, Raphael, Ignatz, all seemed friendly enough. He couldn’t find Ava von Phlegethon among them yet. So far, his house looked like a jumble of nobles, commoners, charmers, and misfits. Hardly a unified force. But then, that was the Alliance in miniature, wasn’t it? And Claude von Riegan was nothing if not adaptable.

Of the Blue Lions: Dimitri, future king of Faerghus, serious. Dedue, a large man from Duscur, serious. Felix of house Fraldarious, also serious. The three of them made a stone wall look carefree by comparison. Claude had wondered if the whole of Faerghus was filled with such boring people, until he chanced upon Sylvain of house Gautier, hiding from Ingrid Galatea. He hadn’t managed to speak to either of them, though apparently the whole fiasco had to do with Gwendoline Roache. Gwendoline, for her part, had blushed furiously and hid when she saw Claude approaching. Then there were Ashe, Annette, and Mercedes, who all seemed kind, if a bit naive.

Of the Black Eagles: Edelgard, future empress of Adrestia, and just as serious as Dimitri, though with the air of someone who expected the world to rearrange itself around her sooner rather than later. Hubert of house Vestra, who struck Claude as the kind who would poison your food when you weren’t looking (and Claude’s instincts were very sharp about that kind of thing). Cora Leigh, the lady-in-waiting of Edelgard, who seemed infinitely more charming than Hubert, yet who he also somehow didn’t trust around his food. Petra, the princess of Brigid. Now there was someone Claude definitely wanted to know better — politically, of course. And perhaps otherwise. Ferdinand von Aegir, who was almost as insufferable about his name as Lorenz. Caspar and Linhardt of houses Bergliez and Hevring, who he hadn’t had a chance to meet yet, but who seemed like friends to each other. Dorothea, a famous songstress who he also hadn’t met yet, but who was quite the looker. At first, he thought Bernadetta of house Varley was also absent, though he did find her hiding under her chair during the entrance ceremony.

Everyone accounted for except one, then, he thought to himself after spotting Bernadetta. 

After the ceremony, Claude meandered back to the marketplace by the entrance to Garreg Mach. He had to imagine the last student would be arriving soon. It was nearly nightfall, and it wouldn’t do to arrive a day late to the officer’s academy. 

Lorenz approached him from the entrance hall. Claude did his best not to sigh. That Gloucester kid had dogged his heels all day, inserting himself into every one of his conversations. It was getting tiresome. 

He closed his eyes and inhaled. At least he’s not Shahid…

“All the students are convening in the dining hall. And what business do you have here, Claude?” Lorenz asked him. 

Not any business of yours, Claude thought. But it was probably better to keep that kind of sass to himself. “Just stretching my legs and catching a bit of a break after that ceremony.”

“Ah of course, it’s only natural for a political novice such as yourself to become overwhelmed by so many nobles in one place.”

Political novice? Claude thought. Oh, child, you have no idea who you’re talking to. I survived more assassination attempts by age 10 than you likely have in your life. 

But being underestimated was often his greatest advantage, so he let it go. “Besides, I figured I’d wait for our last student here.”

They didn’t have to wait long. At that moment, a caravan of horses and pegasi strode through the front gates of Garreg Mach, making quite a stir amongst the merchants closing up shop as they hurried to move wares out of their way. There were six girls total amongst them, all riding pegasi, the horses behind pulling carts of their belongings. Most were wearing the reservist academy uniform. Only one, the one in front, was wearing the officer’s academy uniform. Her hair was dark brown, tied up in a messy low bun, much more informally than most of the other nobles. She surveilled her surroundings with a serious expression. 

“Ah, allow me to introduce you,” Lorenz said to Claude. “This is Lady Ava von Phlegethon.”

Ava stared down at them from her Pegasus coolly. “Ava is fine.” As she dismounted, she bowed first to Claude, then to Lorenz. There’s an order of formality, Judith had told him. You have to remember to bow to those in higher positions first or the nobles get their poor little feelings hurt. Claude smirked. He wondered if Lorenz had picked up on that little detail. 

“You look as though you’ve had a long journey, fair lady,” Lorenz said to her. 

“You must be the young lord Gloucester,” she said flatly. She spoke in an unsmiling voice, a stern, serious expression on her face. 

Lorenz practically glowed with pride at the recognition. “Ah, so you recognize me.” He beamed at her. Her staid demeanor did not waver. 

“You look like your father,” Ava said. The way she said it, Claude thought, didn’t sound like a compliment. Though maybe that was wishful thinking. 

“Ah yes, he visited Acheron recently. Indeed, I am Lorenz Helman Gloucester, son of Count Gloucester, and heir to the leading house of the Alliance. Pleased to finally make your acquaintance.” He turned to Claude. “Ava is the adopted daughter of Lord Acheron Von Phlegethon,” yes I know that, and I think she can speak for herself, Claude thought. “She also bears a major crest of Gloucester, which is why our fathers have been arranging a betrothal.”

Ah, so that was what he had a chip on his shoulder about. 

“Not interested,” Ava said bluntly. Claude held his hand to his mouth to suppress a chuckle as Lorenz nearly fell over with surprise. She turned to Claude and eyed him critically. “You must be young lord Riegan, heir to the leading house of the Alliance.” 

Claude smirked. Perhaps he was reading too much into it, but it sounded to him like she added that last part on purpose. Lorenz seemed miffed about it. Maybe there was something more to this kid. “That’s me. But Claude is fine. I’m surprised you figured it out.” 

“You look like your grandfather,” she said flatly.

Now that was a surprise. “Well that’s gotta be the first time anyone has said that to me,” Claude said. The only thing he had heard was speculation about how he might not be related to his grandfather at all. 

She frowned. “Not the hair, but you have the same eyes and nose.” 

Perceptive, Claude thought. There was definitely more to her than her serious demeanor let on. 

“I suppose you’ve heard about Claude as well,” Lorenz said, temporarily recovering from his shock. “Or at least as much as anyone knows about such a suspicious arrival to the nobility.” 

“I have,” she answered. Based on how tersely she spoke, Claude doubted any of it was good. He decided to change the subject. 

“I’ve heard you’ve got combat experience,” Claude said. 

A smile. Just a small one. He could tell she was trying to hide it, but it was there. She was proud of that fact. 

“If you’d call it that. Just dealing with bandits where Lord Phlegethon can’t be bothered.” She shook her hair out of her face. “Someone needs to fight for justice for the people of Phlegethon.” 

Lorenz nodded, impressed. “I would expect no less of a noble bearing the crest of Gloucester.” He smiled at her. She looked at him with a cold stare, slowly blinked, and then turned to one of the girls traveling with her. 

“Amelia, Let us find a staff member who can direct us to where we need to be.”

Amelia, a red haired girl in a reservists academy uniform bowed to her. “Of course,” and strode past the group and towards the entrance hall. 

“If you’ll excuse us,” Ava said, bowing first to Claude, then to Lorenz. “Lord Riegan. Lord Gloucester.” And she too left. 

Claude smirked as they watched her and her entourage leave. This was going to be an interesting year. 

Chapter Text

Duris pried his boots from his feet as he entered the door. Penelope hated it when he wore his filthy boots in the house. The dust from the Agarthan mines always caked the soles. 

“Welcome home, my love,” Penelope called from the other side of the room. Her voice was nearly drowned out by the gleeful screaming of seven small children.  Duris got down on his knees as his nieces and nephews charged him for a hug. 

Meanwhile, his mother, two sisters, and Penelope were cooking. He came up behind Penelope, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck. He smiled as he felt her belly. The baby inside was growing day by day. Soon enough, it would be one of his own babies joining the chorus greeting him at the door. 

“Uncle Duris! They’re making giblets again,” one of his nephews whined. 

“Please don’t complain,” the boy’s mother said.  “It’s what was in the ration shipment that we could afford.”

“Tell you what, Atlas,” Duris said to the boy. “On your fifteenth birthday, you’ll be allowed down in the mines. Come with me, and you can use your share to buy something better for dinner every now and again.” 

Atlas groaned. “The mines pay nothing. Dad says the Defenders of Agartha get way better rations. And they even get to see the sun.” 

“Don’t you get any ideas!” The boy’s grandmother said, waving a cooking spoon at him. “The mines might be dirty, but you’ll come home from them. Can’t say the same for the Defenders.” 

“I’ll just ask dad,” Atlas grumbled. Duris laughed. He knew Jason would be more than happy to see the boy follow in his footsteps. For all his faults, his brother-in-law had a strong sense of conviction. 

Like clockwork, the door opened again, and his two brothers-in-law strode in. If Duris thought his greeting had been jubilant, the children downright exploded with delight at their entrance. He couldn’t fault them. These were their fathers, and they had been gone nearly three weeks on deployment. Duris was glad to see them, though the five hundred square foot room was already plenty crowded with the twelve residents that lived there full-time. 

Duris helped to move the sleeping mats from the floor through the chaos of the house. Children demanded hugs, stories of the surface, and gifts, while the women repeatedly reminded the men to take their damn shoes off in the house. The children didn’t quiet down again until the floor was set for dinner and his brothers-in-law shared the stories of their travels. 

“…open fields as far as the eye can see. And when the sun sets in the evening the whole world turns golden yellow,” Jason said, sweeping his hands out wide while the children listened, rapt at attention. “That, my dears, is the promised land. The land of light. The land of our forefathers. Our land.” 

Duris rolled his eyes. 

“You have something to say?” Jason demanded of him. 

“Nah. You keep up the good fight, brother. Though I don’t need anything but my dearest wife and a dinner of giblets to make me happy.” He leaned over and kissed Penelope on the cheek. She blushed. 

“Hmph. You’ll see once your child is born,” Jason said. “This tiny little prison is no life for our children.” 

Duris wasn’t so sure of that. More than ever, he wished the Defenders would leave well enough alone. He knew the stories of the massacres that had been unleashed on his people. The systematic destruction of their men and women and children that the surface dwellers had wreaked on them. Shambala might be a ‘prison’, but it was their prison. So long as they kept their heads down, the surface dwellers could not find them, and so they were safe. The more the Defenders went up and down, the more they antagonized the surface dwellers, the more likely the city would be found. And if that happened, even his dear Penelope would not be safe. But he knew it was unwise to argue with Jason too much, lest the Defenders come for him in the night. 

“Dad, I’m almost fifteen,” Atlas said. “Then I can join you, right?” 

Jason laughed and ruffled the boy’s hair affectionately. “You’d make your old man proud.” 

“You’d best bring him home,” the boy’s grandmother grumbled. 

“Don’t you worry, Grandmama,” Jason said with a carefree laugh. “I’ll keep with him.”

“If only that we’re enough. If you go looking for a fight, you know there are no guarantees,” grandmother said. 

“The Father says we’re not looking for a fight now,” Jason said. “The beasts still swarm on the surface like cockroaches. There’s too many for us to hold a meaningful fight against. For now, it’s reconnaissance, laying the groundwork, ambushes. The boys always make it out of those. There’s so few of us, the Father won’t have us doing things that risk a single life.” Jason hugged his son. “Every Agarthan life is more precious than gold.” 

That night, as the fourteen of them slept on the floor, half piled on one another, Duris lay awake, wondering. Where would they make room for the baby that was coming? And the ones after? Was Jason right? Would he change his mind once the child was born? Would he finally understand the Father’s idealistic drive to seize back the surface? Or would he cling ever tighter to the security he had here? Finding no answers, he eventually drifted off to sleep there in the eternal dark of the earth. 

Chapter Text

“Alright, fine, Arval. I give up, you win. You were right. I am lost,” Shez said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Happy now?”

I’m glad you’ve seen the error in your ways, the smug voice in her head responded, sounding not even a little bit sincere. 

“Arval, if you’ve got something clever to say, go on and say it,” Shez said. 

Who me? Arval asked, feigning innocence. When do I ever have anything clever to say?

“Literally any time you open your mouth, or… well however it is you talk to me in my head,” Shez said. 

Leaves and twigs snapped under her feet as she strode through a rabbit trail in the woods just outside of Remire village. 

Must you talk aloud? Arval said. I can hear your thoughts, you know. And we are on the hunt. Yet here you are clomping around like a great oaf.

She looked around the clearing in the woods. Arval was right. She couldn’t afford to be stomping loudly around the woods. Remire village had to be close, meaning that the one she was hunting was nearby too.

The Ashen Demon. 

How long had it been now since he had wiped out her entire mercenary company? 

6 months, Arval’s voice said. Shez rolled her eyes. 

Of course. You can hear my thoughts. She looked down at the ragged wood and hemp bracelet that captain Berling had given her three years ago. It was threadbare and almost ready to fall off her wrist. It was still hard to believe she was gone. She and everyone else in the company  … like anyone else who had ever cared for her…

I’m always with you, Arval said.

Yeah you and your attitude, Shez retorted, in her head.

Hey now, who was it who saved you from that group of thieves just last week? And when that highway robber put that axe in your back? And the time with the wolf?

Okay, okay, I get it, Shez conceded. Quiet for a second, did you hear that? 

She listened intently into the silent woods, then heard it again, a loud crash somewhere off to her right. Then the sound of footsteps. Running. More than one person. 

“Will you please slow down?!” a woman’s voice shouted. 

“They’re trying to kill us, and you want me to slow down?!” a man’s voice answered. He sounded young.

“The knights can’t help us if we’re this far out.” Another man’s voice.

Three people wearing black uniforms broke through the brush to Shez’ right. She watched them cautiously. One girl. Two boys. Late teenagers. Likely around her own age. They were armed.

The dark-haired boy notched an arrow in his bow. Shez eyed him sideways. She hadn’t drawn her weapon with her left hand, but she could always summon the one on her right and surprise him if need be. “Are you looking for a fight?” she asked, eyebrows raised. 

“That depends on if you are with them,” the blonde boy said. 

“Who’s ‘them’? I’m not with anyone but myself,” Shez answered.

At that moment, another figure burst through the thicket after them. A burly man wielding a rusty hatchet. “Time to die little brats!” he shouted as he swung the axe at the dark haired boy. Shez drew her weapon, jumped forward, and sliced him from hip to shoulder, just as the boy's arrow landed in his stomach. 

“You seem to be a capable fighter,” the white haired girl said to her. 

“Mercenary,” Shez said. “And you lot look like you could use an extra sword arm.” 

“It does seem so,” Edelgard said warily as two more burly men stepped out of the brush. “If you will fight for us, I can assure you that you will be well compensated.” 

The two men charged at them, followed by three more through the brush. Shez jumped forward to meet them in combat. 

Three children in the woods promising you a reward is hardly a contract, you know, Arval said dryly as Shez fought off one of the men. We could just leave them to their fate  … we have more important matters to attend to. 

Shez dodged a swing of an ax. Distracting. She ducked under a follow-up punch, summoned her right hand sword, and sliced the brute across the face. 

The other three seemed to be capable fighters in their own right. The white haired girl and the blonde boy were fending off attacks with their axe and lance respectively, while the dark haired boy sniped with his bow from a safe distance behind them. 

But every time they managed to defeat one, another seemed to come along. How many of these assholes are there? Shez thought. She pulled her sword out of one of the bandit’s gut and looked around as he fell to the ground. 

They were surrounded now. 

She took a step to the side, to ensure the boy with the bow was defended on all sides. Still, they were outnumbered four-to-one at least, and while Shez was good, she wasn’t that good. 

This is what you get for sticking your nose into other peoples’ problems, Arval sighed. And this is the part where you ask me to lend you my power. 

More like where you decide that for me, Shez thought back. 

Ungrateful… but of course I’m not letting you die like this. 

The bandits surrounding them began to rush in, closing on their position. 

Then let’s do this, Shez thought. 

Power coursed through her veins, bursting from her fingertips. She felt the burning on her face and arms as glowing red emblems manifested around her head and wrists, and white markings etched themselves into her face. 

She leapt forward to meet the closest bandits head on, only halfway in control of her movements. Instead, she could feel Arval directing her arms and legs as she slashed through first one, then two, ducked under his body, deflected a strike from three, and took his head from his shoulders. On to four, then five. Her mind was clear, her movements fluid as water, forceful as a raging river, swift and exacting. 

The other kids did their best to fend off the approaching bandits while Shez — Arval, really — made her way around the circle of enemies, slicing them down one by one. 

“Pathetic, this bunch”, Arval laughed, this time out loud through Shez’ own mouth. It was always unnerving hearing his voice coming out of her mouth. She swept through her enemies until they had all fallen or fled. 

She turned back to the three kids. Now suddenly exhausted, she felt Arval’s power evaporate. Her transformation, the red glowing, the face markings all disappeared. 

A job well done, if I say so myself, Arval said proudly. 

Couldn’t have done it without you, Shez thought. 

Glad you can muster up some gratitude every now and again, Arval said smugly. 

“Well, that was a lot more exciting than I expected this outing to be,” the dark haired boy said with a nervous laugh. “Do they do this to the new students every year?” 

“I should think not,” the blonde boy said. He turned to Shez. “I believe introductions are in order.” He bowed to her formally. Oh good, some noble lordlings, she thought. “I am Dimitri Alexander Bladdyd, heir to the throne of Faerghus.” 

Shez nearly fell over. The future king of Faerghus?! 

The white-haired girl stepped forward, hand over her heart. “Edelgard Von Hresvelg.” 

That makes her the princess of the Adrestian Empire, does it not? Arval asked. 

“Claude Von Riegan,” the dark haired boy bowed. “Heir of the leading house of the Leicester Alliance, at your service. 

Shez looked among the three of them in amazement. “So you’re… you’re all…?” She pointed between them.

“The future leaders of the three countries of Fódlan, yes,” Edelgard said. “I did promise that you would be rewarded for helping us, and house Hresvelg always pays its debts.”

Ooh, princess of the Empire, indebted to us? Arval said. Shez thought he sounded a bit greedy there. 

“Hey now, I think we all owe her, isn’t that right Dimitri?” Claude said with a laugh. He seemed far less formal than the other two, more at ease. 

Dimitri nodded. “Indeed. As soon as we return to the base camp, I’m sure we can arrange something with the knights.”

Shez suddenly felt dizzy. Channeling Arval’s power always drained her. Over time she had gotten more used to it — the first time, it had caused her to pass out entirely — but it still wiped her out something fierce. She hoped they weren’t far from their camp. She sure needed a good sit.

“Alois, over here!” A man’s voice called out. Shez turned to see a man riding a horse. Her stomach dropped. 

Captain Jeralt of Jeralt’s Mercenaries, Arval said, his voice in her head full of venom. And the Ashen Demon beside him. 

He was right. There, next to Jeralt, was the emotionless husk of a man they called the Ashen Demon. His sword was drawn, covered in red, viscous fluid. 

This is the worst possible time, Shez thought. She gripped her swords tightly. If he recognized her, she was toast. She wasn’t sure she could even walk half a mile, much less fight in her current state.

Another man in heavy silver armor broke through the bushes. “Ah! Thank the goddess, you lot are safe!” 

“No thanks to Claude here, who ran us so far from the Knights of Seiros,” Edelgard chided. 

Claude shook his head. “Hey — it was a tactical retreat! I didn’t expect you two to follow me. And anyways, it’s all thanks to this one here,” he said, pointing to Shez. “If we hadn’t run into her, you would be planning our funerals right about now.” 

The one called Alois strode forward to Shez, though she was doing her best to avoid the stare of the Ashen Demon. 

He hasn’t made a move yet, Arval said.

Maybe he doesn’t recognize me, Shez thought.

Wishful thinking. Your transformation that day should have been memorable. 

Alois extended his hand. “Call me Alois, of the Knights of Seiros.”  

Shez sheathed her sword, took his hand and shook it. “Shez. Of nowhere in particular.”

This was trouble. The knights of Seiros were strong and organized. This was definitely not the place to launch an attack on the Ashen Demon, if he was allied with them. 

“I’m ashamed to admit that the students of the Garreg Mach Officer’s Academy were ambushed by bandits on our first field outing. The Church of Seiros is in your debt. It would be a crisis indeed if these students had been lost to us. I insist you return with us, so we can adequately reward your efforts.”

Sounds friendly enough, but… does he really get to ‘insist’? Arval asked. I sense there’s no room to argue with him…

Alois turned to Jeralt and the Ashen Demon. “You as well. Your efforts helped lead us to them. You must return with us. And besides,” he said with a smile and arms wide open, “we have so much catching up to do, Captain!” 

Captain Jeralt shook his head. “I was hoping to avoid this… but I know better than to argue with the Knights of Seiros.” 

Shez sheathed her other sword as they all began to follow Alois. 

Keep your head down, Arval warned as they approached the Ashen Demon. He didn’t seem to acknowledge her, though, even as they got closer. 

Maybe without the transformation, I’m not memorable, she thought, hopefully. 

She paused to let the future lords walk past her first, hoping she could remain inconspicuous behind them. Claude and Dimitri passed, though Edelgard stopped next to her and eyed her, as though assessing her. She looked like she was going to say something as the others began to walk away after Alois. Whatever it was, it was cut off by a sudden roar from the bushes. 

“No one makes a fool of Kostas!” A burly man wielding an ax shouted as he jumped out of the bushes. He looked stronger than the others.  “I’m taking at least one of you brats with me!” 

Her sword was sheathed. There wasn’t time. Shez grabbed Edelgard by the shoulders, pulled her to the ground, and guarded her with her own body. 

Time seemed frozen. She expected to feel an ax in her back. Instead, she felt a strange kind of dissonance in her gut, like the jagged screech of an untuned fiddle. A long second passed. Then another. And another. 

She looked up to see the Ashen Demon’s back. He had blocked the blow with his sword. 

Did he just  …?

Save you? What a joke, he truly doesn’t remember you, Arval said. I suppose wiping out all your friends wasn’t enough to make you memorable to him, Arval laughed. Shez felt sour about the taunt. 

The Ashen Demon swiftly disarmed Kostas, and kicked him to the ground. Kostas scrambled back and fled as the others approached, weapons drawn. 

The Ashed Demon turned back and looked directly at Shez. Despite her best effort, she couldn’t help but meet his gaze. 

A fiery rage rose in her body, and she looked away quickly to push it down. 

Not here, she thought. Not the time. 

There really was nothing behind his eyes. No fear. No relief. No anger. Nothing one would feel after the adrenaline rush of combat. Was he really not human? 

She swallowed down her raging emotions. She couldn’t betray her motives here. Not when she was so close… She would just have to wait for the right time… 

Chapter Text

Shez had been up and down half the continent of Fodlan in her lifetime, but never once had she made it to Garreg Mach before. Clearly the stories didn't do it justice. It was unlike any structure she had ever seen. The white walls and spires towered over the town below. 

I'm sure there's a technical term for those … defensive… thingies, Shez thought.

She could practically hear Arval's exasperation in her head. Of course there is, but I doubt you'd listen to me even if I told you. 

Sometimes it was fun just to get on his nerves. 

The town was impressive on its own, but the monastery itself was something else entirely. Shez was amazed at the first hall they walked through, thinking that this surely must be the main building, since she had never seen one so large. She marveled at the height of it. She had never imagined a room could have such high ceilings. They could fit an entire Pegasus battalion in the rafters.  And yet, as it turned out, that was merely the entrance hall. 

Shez waited with Alois and a handful of other knights as Jeralt and the Ashen Demon had a meeting with someone in a second story audience hall. 

As soon as we collect our payment, we need to leave, Arval said. Then we can find someplace nearby to watch for the Ashen Demon's next moves. Wherever he goes after he leaves this place, we'll follow. 

This place is amazing, though, Shez thought. Can't we at least look around a bit first?

You'd really jeopardize your goal just to gawk like a peasant at the circus?

Shez looked around. Alois grinned at her like an overly-friendly uncle. "Lady Edelgard spoke most highly of your skill," he said. 

I hope she didn't say too much, Shez thought. She preferred to keep Arval's transformation a secret as much as possible.

Shez crossed her arms. "Doesn't matter much to me what anyone thinks," Shez said. "As long as I get paid." 

"Spoken like a true mercenary," Alois said. Shez wondered what a knight would know of mercenaries. "The money might be better than a knight's salary, though there are other perks to being a knight."

"Money's all that matters. Honor doesn't buy you food and pride doesn't keep the rain off your back," Shez said. 

"No, I suppose not," Alois said, smiling calmly as if completely dissuaded by her argument. It didn't matter to her one way or another. She didn't care how other people lived their lives. This one was hers, though, and she'd live it how she chose. Keep people at a distance. Take contracts. Get paid. Eat. Sleep. 

Kill the Ashen Demon.

Yes, yes, obviously that too, Arval. Shez rolled her eyes.

After a painfully long wait, Shez was called into the audience chamber. A woman in ornate dress and a stern looking man stood at the end of the audience hall. 

The man spoke first, with a sharp, authoritarian voice. Shez decided immediately that she didn't like him just by his tone. "You are addressing the Archbishop Rhea of the Central Church of Seiros. You would do well to observe proper ceremony." 

Yup, already don't like him. Shez couldn't stand people with stuffy ideas of 'proper' behavior. It usually meant they expected you to grovel. She bowed, just enough to feel like she passed standards. 

Agreed, thought Arval. 

Alois gestured to Shez. "This is Shez, of nowhere in particular," he said with a wink.

Maybe joking with the Archbishop is one of those perks he mentioned, Arval thought. 

"I have heard of your deeds," said the Archbishop. Though her tone was not as abrasive, it was the same kind of self-important air that nobles gave off. Shez wasn't convinced she liked her either.

Doubly agreed, said Arval. Shez's skin crawled, though she wasn't sure if that was her reaction or Arval's.

"I have been informed that you are owed a reward for your service. However, I have an alternate proposal for you."

Uh oh, here it comes, said Arval. 

Can't trust anyone to pay these days, can you? Shez thought, annoyed. Fine, fine, let's get to the part where you ask me to take blessings and prayers instead of gold.

"Lady Edelgard of the Adrestian Empire has informed me that she wishes to fund a scholarship for you to attend the Garreg Mach Officer's academy as a student of the Black Eagles house for the school year."

If Shez had a drink, she'd be spitting it out right about now. "Wait, what now?" She blurted out. 

"The Officer's Academy is the most esteemed military academy of Fódlan, where the brightest minds of the countries' future top military brass learn of strategy, tactics, and battle," the man chastised her. "To attend would be an honor that should not be looked down upon."

"Y-yeah, I know. I just mean… really? A scholarship?" Shez said, struggling to find words. "That's…"

"Quite the reward, yes," the archbishop finished. 

"Yeah…" Shez thought, trailing off. Shez had no idea how much it cost, but she had heard of nobles who had burned entire fortunes funding their childrens' tuition to the academy. It was easily more money than she had ever seen in her life. 

This is our chance, Arval thought. Think about it. The brightest minds, the future's military leaders, the most renowned professors… It's the best experience money can buy. You still have so far to grow before you can control my power and defeat the Ashen Demon. You could learn a lot here. 

"That is," the archbishop continued, "if you choose to accept."

"Of course I accept!" Shez blurted out. "I mean — uh — I'd be, um… honored to accept. My lord. Lady. Your Archbishopship?" 

You're not doing formality right, Arval teased.

Shut up, you, Shez countered. 

"Good," the Archbishop said. "Seteth," she turned to the man next to her. "Please inform the administrators and have a dormitory set aside for her. I will have a knight inform Lady Edelgard and the new Black Eagles' house professor."

"New professor?" Shez asked. 

Stupid, don't interrupt the clergy, they get all butthurt when you do that, Arval chided, though clearly not out of respect for the Archbishop. At least the Archbishop didn't seem too bothered by it. 

"Yes. The previous professor of the Black Eagles house has been discharged after his failure to perform his duties during the field outing," she said. 

Sounds like a nice way of saying 'he was executed for letting three noble brats nearly die', Arval said. 

Shush, I doubt it's that bad.

"As such, we have just entered into a contract with a new professor for the Black Eagles house, professor Byleth Eisner."

No.

That Byleth?! 

The Ashen Demon. 

As the meeting wrapped up, Shez remained silent, nodding where necessary, feeling slightly numb. After she exited the audience hall, she paused. 

Well, she and Arval both thought at the same time. Shit.

Chapter Text

"Ah, yes, the baron of house Ochs. I know him well. He and I met at the gala held last year for Duke Gerth, another good friend of mine," Ferdinand pontificated.

Cora nodded along as she sipped her cup of Seiros Tea. Ferdinand talked like an Enbarr fountain: constantly gushing. It was no wonder that he knew nothing of substance, she thought. Any secret he might be privy to, he'd spill in the purpose of name-dropping within the hour.

She spent the rest of the morning listening to him recite his list of high connections. She nodded politely, careful not to interrupt. She kept the kettle at just the right temperature and observed every formality of tea time. Some might find it to be a pain, but she enjoyed it. Tea was perhaps her greatest pleasure in the world. It was the second best way to get to know someone and start worming her way into their secrets. The first, of course, was stalking them in the shadows and spying on them when they thought they weren't being watched. That, too, was on her list of favorite activities.

The morning bell rang. "Ah, time for class," Ferdinand declared. "This has been a most refreshing tea time, thank you again."

Cora plastered a fake smile on her face. "The pleasure is all mine, my lord. Why don't you go on ahead to class, and I will clean up here."

As he left, she held back a sigh. She would have little to report back to Edelgard from this tea time. But she had other, more promising prospects lined up for later in the day. Before that, she had another matter to attend to. There was a very specific kind of tea she needed to find, and only one person who might know where to find it. Now was as good a time as any to make an introduction.

After cleaning up the tea, she took a meandering stroll around the officer's academy, spent a moment loitering at a scenic overlook, and then stopped to smell some flowers. All this convinced her well enough that she wasn't being followed. As she turned the corner towards the dormitory she stepped aside into the shadow of the building. She glanced around. No one was looking.

This should work well enough…

And she melted into the shadows, a magic that always gave her a thrill when she used it. She danced, incorporeally, through the shadows and in through a secret passageway in the wall, down dank stone tunnels, and into the ancient ruins below the monastery. 

"Abyss". 

She had been here before and already knew of a good secluded spot to resume a physical form without being noticed. She went to great lengths to assure that she never bet at a table she hadn't rigged in advance, and the officer's academy was no different. She had been sneaking about in the shadows, listening in and learning the major players for the better part of a year before her official arrival. And there was one major player she needed to make introductions to.

"Ah, there you are," she said to a purple haired young man as she stepped out of the shadows. 

He stood and turned. He looked her up and down skeptically. "What's a cute little bird like you doing down here? Based on your uniform… Academy students don't belong in Abyss. You must be lost." 

"Nah," she said, casually tossing her long dark hair aside. "I've been looking for you."

"I don't think you understand who you're talking to," he said.  

"Maybe an introduction is in order, then. Cora Leigh," she said with a curtsey. 

"Never heard of you."

"Good," she said with a pleasant smile. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Well, 'Cora', you'd better scamper back to where you came from. Innocent little children like yourself only get chewed up and spit out here." 

She laughed. Of course he thought she was some innocent little girl. She'd cultivated that image quite well. "Oh don't worry about me, Yuri."

He squinted at her, suspiciously. 

"Yes, you didn't tell me your name, did you?" She said, a pleasant smile still plastered on her face. She didn't let it reach her eyes. Yuri had a reputation. He was sharp. Clever. He would pick up exactly what she was putting down. 

"I see now," he said slowly. "You're some noble brat who thinks she's a clever little sneak. Well, I'll only tell you one more time," he approached her, just close enough to be too close for comfort, just close enough to be threatening. "Quit playing edgy and go back to your little tea parties and choir practices. You're playing with fire here."

She smiled, unphased. "I am the fire…" she leaned in and whispered his name in his ear. Not Yuri. The one in the letters from his sweet little mama that she had seen while she was peering over his shoulders from the shadows. 

She burst into shadows, barely dodging a blade. She had expected retribution, but not so swift. As she recomposed herself on the far end of the room from him, she examined the cut on her side. If she hadn't been so fast, it would have gone straight between her ribs to her heart. 

He was good. She was ruffled. She never let herself get ruffled. She didn't like it at all. And now, he knew her little secret too. 

He stared in shock. "What was that?" 

She wiped the blood from her side. "Maybe I should have said I'm the shadows," she tried to laugh off her adrenaline rush. "Regardless, why don't we call it even? You keep my secret, I'll keep yours. No one knows about this little trick of mine, not even the ones who did it to me, and I'd rather keep it that way."

He glared at her. "Who are you and what do you want?" he growled. 

"I told you already, I'm Cora. As for what I want, I'd… Well, I'd like to prevent an all-out war in Fódlan." Cora hadn't been so straightforward and honest in ages. "I know you look out for the people here, and war wouldn't be good for them."

He glared, knife still drawn. 

"To that end, I thought I should introduce myself. You might see me sneaking around down here from time to time. Or, you know, you might not see me. Regardless, I wanted you to know I don't mean any harm. Quite the opposite, really. And who knows, we might even be able to come up with a… mutually beneficial business relationship? If you ever need to find me, come look up on the surface. I might be at a little tea party or choir practice."

She paused. "Oh, and while I'm here, I'm looking for some Almyran pine."